


you can't tell me to regret

by cassi0pei4



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Extramarital Affairs, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-10 17:45:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17430575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassi0pei4/pseuds/cassi0pei4
Summary: Edward brings Diana Sawyer home to meet his sisters nearly three decades after their mother had gone home to the Dark Lord. As grateful as Zelda is that her mother lived to see Edward ascend to High Priest, she is even more so that she passed before she could witness Edward taunt the Dark Lord with such hubris.(exploring Zelda's character pre-series via the affair that could have been)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Which Witch" by Florence + the Machine.
> 
> "I'm not beat up by this yet  
> You can't tell me to regret  
> Been in the dark since the day we met  
> Fire, help me to forget"

Zelda had known for weeks that her brother was courting someone. It wasn't so much the proliferation of late nights or mysterious trips without explanation. Since ascending to High Priest, such occurrences were hardly unusual. No, it was more a change in Edward himself.

Her brother had always been a touch foolhardy. His natural good looks and charisma meant that her brother had rarely encountered someone who couldn't be charmed into acquiescence with a flash of his boyish grin. Petty rule-braking was easily forgiven with his record untarnished, miscast spells soon forgotten with no doubt to his genius.

(Zelda knows she would have been eaten alive with jealousy if she hadn't always been his easiest victim. He saved his softest smiles for her, secretive smirks accompanying inside jokes and breathless grins after side-splitting laughter. Sometimes she hated how much she adored him.)

It was clear that something had changed when her madcap older brother seemed to turn day-by-day more cautious. Gone was that easy confidence, gone too were the afternoons spent idly arguing for innovation over tradition or the evening cocktails shared as he waxed poetic of his legacy with bright eyes.

Zelda had known he would settle eventually, but it took time before she realized that his change in spirit had a name and a face, before she realized that it wasn't that his foolhardy flame was extinguished, but rather had found one bonfire alone to burn within.

~

Edward brings Diana Sawyer home to meet his sisters nearly three decades after their mother had gone home to the Dark Lord. As grateful as Zelda is that her mother lived to see Edward ascend to High Priest, she is even more so that she passed before she could witness Edward taunt the Dark Lord with such hubris.

Since the first greeting -- "And you must be Zelda!" warm arms suddenly wrapping around her, "I've heard so much about you!" -- she knows she doesn't like her. She thinks she might hate her. Every time she finds herself near the mortal she feels a strange, bubbling sort of tension that she simply cannot abide. It makes her naturally quick temper even more uncharacteristically cruel.

"These tea cakes are delicious!"

"To your plebeian tastebuds perhaps."

"It just looked like it would be such a lovely color on you, Zelda," with a proffered scarf outstretched.

"Yes, if one were color-blind."

"I thought they'd brighten up the place," pointing to a vase of newly plucked wildflowers.

"Are you trying to infest the house with wood sprites?"

It had become a common sight in the Spellman household: Diana hurrying away, her reddened face hidden in her hands or a vase or whatever camouflage was available, and Zelda unmoved, shoulders back, chin raised and eyes haughty, her cigarette smoldering in place.

There was something so fundamentally provoking about this woman: her soft girlish voice, her pale eyes and skin and hair, that waifish, fragile frame. Her presence sat upon Zelda like a rash, an itch that she could never properly scratch or soothe.

"I know she's a mortal" Hilda began one night when they were both preparing for bed, speaking gently as though to a feral animal in need of taming, "but she's awfully nice once-" with a glance at her sister's face, she wisely chose not to finish her thought.

The itch continued, sparking up her legs, until they were as restless as soldier ants.

"I'm going to sit up and read."

Hilda knew better than to say anything as her sister grabbed her satanic bible and left their bedroom in a swish of silk.

~

It's Edward's sixteenth baptism as High Priest, a fortuitous occasion and one to be celebrated. Hilda and Zelda have prepared the clearing with other congregation members. There is to be an additional toast following the normal festivities.

Zelda had just begun to welcome the child's parents when she spots him arrive in the distance. It's dark, but she knows his silhouette almost better than she knows her own.

Her stomach plummets when she sees he's not alone.

He couldn't possibly. Even he couldn't be this reckless, this absurd.

Diana walks at his side, wrapped primly in deep purple, the closest to black Zelda has yet seen her wear, her hand clasped in his, their arms entwined.

There's a rushing sound in her ears.

"Zelds?" Hilda's voice is distant, like its calling out from another time, a time when Zelda could still breathe.

"Zelda?" Her sister's voice is stronger now.

Zelda turns away from her. She barks out an order, after all there are still baptismal preparations to attend to, and busies herself straightening the alter.

Edward greets her with a brush of lips on her cheek.

"Perfect as usual, Zee" His voice is warm as his eyes flit over the clearing, double checking that everything is in its place.

Her heart is hammering in her chest. She keeps her eyes locked on her brother, studiously avoiding acknowledging the woman clutched at his side.

"What, in Satan's unholy name--" her voice breaks. Its hard to whisper when screams are echoing in her ears.

"Edward." She tries to pour her rage and confusion and contempt into that one word. He must understand, because he leans away from her with a sigh, and leaves her, turning to greet the other parishioners.

She can see Diana lean towards her briefly out of the corner of her eye, as if about to offer some greeting or explanation. Zelda turns her back on her, before she can. The last thing they need right now is her infamous temper causing an even greater scandal.

When the baptismal vows are set to begin she moves to take her usual place, behind her brother, just to his left. But just as she does so she sees Edward pull Diana to him. They kiss and she smiles as she's positioned in Zelda's place.

She keeps her face impassive as she stands next to Hilda on Edwards right instead, but she can feel her whole body scream with it as though set on fire. It courses through her until she burns to let it out, to scream and rage and run.

Often she finds herself unconsciously answering the baptismal vows, born again into the night with each baptism she attends. Tonight they barely register.

Zelda leaves before the festivities end, brushing off questions and advances from a half dozen coven members. She finds a tree set apart a bit from the forest around it and in an instant breathes out her emotion, engulfing it in flames so strong they flicker with blue. She stands close enough that her eyes sear from the smoke and for a moment she imagines that the flames will char her too, like they do this poplar, and hopes that the burn will soothe the tension in her bones that bears Diana's voice and face.

She stands there for an hour at least, until the tree is nothing but ash and embers, softly shielding those around it from catching on the flame.

She teleports herself home, suddenly exhausted and retires straight to her room finding it blessedly empty, though where Hilda is, at this hour, she can't fathom.

She's halfway through removing her jewelry when she hears her bedroom door open and turns to greet her sister, only to find a very different blonde face staring back.

Diana's fidgets with her shawl as she enters the room.

There's silence for a moment, as Diana avoids her eyes. Zelda could offer a greeting, but then perhaps this woman would think she was somehow welcome here.

"I wanted to say," Diana breaks off for a moment. She bites her lip and Zelda revels in her obvious discomfort.

"I want you to know, Zelda, I would never dream of coming between you and Eddie." Eddie. Honestly. How undignified.

Zelda moves forward, still in her baptismal finery, backing Diana up slowly until the space between them is mere inches and the mortal is trapped against the wall of the bedroom that she had so unwisely entered without invitation.

"Aren't you sweet?" Zelda sharp smile and it's more than satisfying to watch Diana almost flinch in response.

"I only meant-"

"I know what you meant, Diana."

Diana blinks. Her eyes quickly shift to the floor, but Zelda grabs her chin, caresses it with one hand and lifts it until Diana meets her gaze again.

"My brother and I have shared everything for over a century."

She strokes a finger up and over Diana's cheek.

Something twists inside her. It's the same sense that she'd had the first time she'd seen her, but what was once a crackling irritation has grown to an inferno of pressure, heavy and pounding in her chest. She strokes Diana's cheek, so soft and smooth and the fire radiates. Her gaze drops to watch those cheeks flush and then down to her rosy lips, parted slightly as though surprised.

It's few moments before she realizes the strange silence that's fallen between them, the only sound in the room their synchronized breathing.

Zelda steps back, her had dropping as though suddenly scalded. She can feel herself flush and knows it must show, pink blotches on porcelain.

She looks up in time to catch Diana biting her lip before turning quickly, the door swinging shut silently as she leaves.


	2. Chapter 2

Zelda knows now how the toads she's boiled alive must have felt as flames licked their cauldron hotter and hotter. She's trapped somehow, held in some gravitational orbit, unable to get away and unable to get closer. Winter snows melt into lush green forests and the heat of spring presses in until Zelda thinks she may go mad with it.

~

It's a large gathering. The Forsythes are an old witching family and well-connected and as such their Beltane festival has always been mainstay of well-to-do witching society, not just in Greendale but in the surrounding counties as well. The Spellman family, naturally, is always invited but this year, Edward has a prior engagement, the keynote lecture at the festival at Stone Henge, a great honor for the Church of Night, but an immovable commitment.

Zelda of course, can still represent the family. Hilda briefly considers attending, but in the last moment concocts some inane excuse. Zelda waves her away with minimal mockery. She knows how these gatherings eat at her sister's insecurities.

Zelda on the other hand enjoys the chance to socialize freely. Since Edward had taken up the mantle as High Priest, both Zelda and Hilda had become his trusted supporters, always close at hand for whatever he needed. Now, as she sashays in the resplendent foyer, feeling the silk of her dress brush against her skin deliciously, she realizes just how much it the role of dutiful subject has begun to chafe.

She grabs the first drink that passes her by -- something sparkling and purple -- and begins to make the rounds. She spots a half dozen other members of the Church of Night and greats them warmly. One weaves a small flower into the waves of her hair, a blessing of fertility. Zelda wishes she could explain the waste, but accepts it nonetheless.

She stands by the ceremonial bonfire and welcomes in the penetrating heat like an old friend.

It's there that she catches sight of her, the blonde of her hair shimmering gold in the firelight as her head tilts back in a laugh.

Zelda's blood boils. Extraordinary. What hubris must it take to presume acceptance at such a sacred witch gathering?

She moves towards her as though summoned and quickly excuses them both and hauling her aside. She doesn't stop leading her away until they're near a back entrance to the mansion, outside in the cool night air and alone.

She inhales, preparing her diatribe, but as she turns she sees Diana properly for the first time that night, away from the firelight, away from the smoke. She looks different, changed. Her lips are a darker red, her pale hair wilder, her eyes lined with kohl. Zelda can feel her heart racing.

"Edward asked me to come." Diana's pupils are blown wide.

"Did he now?" Zelda's voice is like gravel.

She reaches out and brushes an errant wave of blond hair behind Diana's ear, her fingertips caressing her cheek. Diana gasps, eyes closing and there's a deep satisfaction in knowing that perhaps she's not the only one who has felt the Beltane's bonfire taking root.

She threads her fingers through Diana's hair, pulling roughly as their eyes meet for a moment that stretches interminably. It's Diana who leans forward until their noses brush and their lips open and they drink from each other like they're dying of thirst.

"I've never done this before," Diana murmurs when their lips parted and Zelda continues to kiss across her chin and down her neck.

"You don't say," Zelda raises one eyebrow before kissing her again. For a few blissful moments she feels some kind of satiation before Diana pulls away again.

"I love Eddie."

She rolls her eyes, "Obviously."

Diana was so, so soft. She wanted to surround herself with it, bury herself in it and tear it apart.

"I'm not queer." Diana said pulling away again.

"Good for you," Zelda muttered with distracted disdain. She was far more interested in exploring just how sensitive the skin became where Diana's neck met her shoulder. Diana let out a breathless moan as Zelda scraped her teeth against her skin.

She couldn't get enough. She hadn't felt this intoxicated since the days following her dark baptism, when the simplest of morsels was transubstantiated and even dull hues shone in technicolor. She kissed her way down Diana's chest, pulling her dress askew until she could kiss and bite the flushed skin at the tops of her breasts.

Diana was panting. She shut her eyes tightly, blinking hard and shaking her head as though to dislodge water from her ears.

"Have you," Diana paused as she pressed her hand to her forehead in such a distinctly feminine gesture it wouldn't have looked out of place on the cover of one of Hilda's novels, "Have you...done something? To me? I-"

"Don't be absurd," Zelda said dismissively, but looking up she could see Diana's face was twisted in real fear.

Zelda sighed. She leaned back and took Diana's face in both of her hands, staring directly into those pale eyes.

"I swear on the Spellman family honor that I have done nothing to impair your free will."

Diana swallowed visibly.

Zelda waited a moment for her words to sink in completely before asking, "Do you wish to leave?"

It was suddenly of the utmost importance that if they did this, they did so together.

"No." Diana's voice is hoarse.

Zelda grinned. She couldn't help it, her voice drops into a practiced purr as she brings her lips closer and closer, burgundy to deepest rose. "And do you wish for me to continue?"

Diana lets out a soft whimper as the witch brushes their lips together, just a touch, just at the corners.

"Please," Diana sighs and nothing had ever sounded so sweet as submission from those lips.

She wastes no time, claiming Diana's mouth briefly as she pulls her skirt higher and higher until she's bare below her waist but for her stockings and undergarments, pale cotton and lace.

She drops to her knees and presses her face against the damp fabric, her hands steadying herself on Diana's thighs as her nose rubs gently. She must be losing her mind. This feels, smells, tastes like absinthe in her blood. She drops one hand with a quick motion and vanishes the undergarments into oblivion.

"Oh!" Diana cries out lightly, the shock of cool air on heated skin.

Zelda's hand returned stroking her thigh as she leans in, sealing her mouth over Diana's cunt without preamble. She licks and sucks and swirls her tongue until Diana can't keep her hips from twisting and canting to try and get more pressure. She raises one arm to hold Diana's torso against the wall behind her as she seals her lips over Diana's clit and sucks.

"Christ have mercy," Diana breathes out on a stifled moan of pleasure and it's enough to shake Zelda from her reverie momentarily.

"Edward may put up with that," she says icily, replacing her tongue with the fingers of her other hand momentarily, "but I will not."

She licks a line from her finger deep in Diana's cunt to her clit, flicking it with her tongue as she goes. Diana's hips buck up, thrusting themselves onto her mouth for more as she pulls away again.

"If you have to scream a name, scream mine."

Whatever else one could say about Diana Sawyer, and Zelda had said plenty, it seems she took instruction well.

As it turns out, the mortal didn't scream her pleasure. She sighed. She moaned. She squeaked occasionally. But mostly she chanted Zelda's name, her inflection dancing as her desperation grew and peaked.

It was delicious.

Zelda leans back, licking her lips as aftershocks ripple across her fingertips.

Diana looks debauched: the neck of her dress ajar over one shoulder, her lipstick half gone where she'd bitten it off, her short hair tousled and askew, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

Zelda doesn't let her. She stands, albeit clumsily her legs half numb, and leans her weight against Diana as she kisses her again.

Diana shifts kisses down her neck, sighing Zelda's name as she pulls at ruined silk of her skirt until Zelda's core is pressed hot and wet against Diana's raised thigh and the feel of smooth, soft skin pressed hard against her clit has Zelda dizzy with want. Diana turns her, until Zelda's back is against the cool stone wall and pins her there, half of Zelda's weight supported on Diana's leg.

It feels so good Zelda has to close her eyes against the pleasure.

Diana's lips are soft against her neck, soft kisses that aren't to Zelda's usual taste at all but are making her whimper.

"God, Zelda you're so beautiful," Diana sounds half-drugged and Zelda feels so good she doesn't even mind the false god's name whispered into her skin like a benediction.

She reaches down to grip Diana's hips and pulls her in as her hips grind harder and faster and it doesn't take much until she's cresting, her head falling back too hard against the stone as she curses and praises the Dark Lord in equal measure.

She comes back to herself slowly, her feet aching in her heels, her head and back and hips sore and bruising from the stone wall behind her. She can't seem to stop herself from stroking Diana's soft waves with each exhalation.

The moment breaks, like a soap bubble stretched to far by the water. Diana recoils, her face flushed and Zelda stumbles for a second, graceless as she regains her balance. She claws together her usual mask with each shaking breath until when she looks up, she can look back at Diana with some semblance of her typical iciness.

Diana eyes are fixed off in the distance, her arms wrapped tightly around herself like a shawl.

For a moment, Zelda feels some need to comfort her, to assure her that Edward will never know what happened, that Diana is no less good or worthy or moral for taking something she desired. She can feel it then, that deep below the shimmering haze of anger and jealousy Zelda senses something like affection crackling into life like freshly lit kindling.

But the moment passes.

Zelda cups Diana's face, presses a chaste kiss to her lips, and blinks away silently, reappearing in her bedroom to the sound of Hilda's soft snores. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (small tw for a fat shaming comment)

It's easy then, too easy, to slide back into old rhythms.

She doesn't see Diana again until Edward returns to Greendale. She comes home from running errands to find Ambrose lounging on the settee in the parlor, his feet raised and his nose in a book and Diana standing on an ottoman, her arms half-raised as Hilda pins the waist of Diana's cotton shirtdress, adjusting the seams to loosen the fit.

She's momentarily stunned, entranced with sudden abundance, every curve of Diana's face and body put so obviously on display. She's silent for too long, staring.

She feels bare, too open and naked, and pulls for anything to shield herself.

"If she keeps putting on weight, you'd be better off making a new dress." The sharp mockery tastes more familiar on her tongue than her morning cup of english breakfast.

Ambrose lowers his book and she catches a flash of almost scathing pity from him as he leaves the room, with a quick, "I'll be downstairs."

As he bustles away her eyes settle on her sister. She's used to looks of annoyance from Hilda, knows how her sister's face pinches when she thinks Zelda's not looking. But this is different, her sister seems almost contemptuous of her and something in her eyes cuts through Zelda like a scalpel. Zelda starts to walk towards her but with her first step her sister shifts and it takes a moment for her to realize that Hilda has moved so that she's in front of Diana, just her shoulder, just enough and Zelda knows that motion, her sister's instinct to protect. She knows it because it's often her who Hilda seems to surreptitiously guard. Her little sister is too caring for her good.

"Don't Zelds," Hilda's voice is shaking and she doesn't know if it's fear or anger or both but something like shame twists in her stomach and she suddenly finds she can't meet Hilda's eyes.

Diana's soft voice cuts through the tension, "I wanted to tell Eddie first, but now that he's back," Zelda forces herself to look up at Diana, "I'm pregnant."

Zelda's heart is hammering. Her tongue feels like sandpaper in her mouth.

"Congratulations." She pleased that her voice at least is composed.

She doesn't wait for a response, proud that she leaves the room without hastening to a run.

~

Diana asks Hilda to serve as her midwife, but they've always worked best as a team. Hilda is eager for Zelda's help. She accepts her expertise as some kind of peace offering and perhaps it is.

She and Diana have entered some sort of detente. They watch each other across the table at family dinners. Diana's hair is longer and wilder now, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. Zelda stays uncharacteristically silent, replacing her usual barbs with chain-smoked cigarettes and an extra glass of gin.

In return for her silence, Diana avoids her. She sees her only for regular check-ups, with Hilda as a bubbling blonde chaperone, bustling around Diana's prone form, taking samples and whispering minor enchantments. Zelda stands in the corner, cigarette in place, her face schooled into a bored expression.

She can feel it now, the magic that's sparking off of every inch of her, flickering around her like fireflies in the night until Diana glows so bright that Zelda wonders how she was ever blind to it.

Ambrose calls down, one of their mortuary clients wants to speak with Hilda. Her sister glances at her as if concerned but she brushes it away with impatience.

"I'm perfectly capable of finishing a routine set tests." Hilda's eyes narrow. They both know there's nothing routine about a mortal-witch pregnancy, but she leaves all the same.

"I'll be right back, love." Hilda's hand gently pats Diana's arm and Zelda wonders what it must feel like to be so boundlessly open, to welcome in everything as easily as Hilda does with a smile.

Zelda grabs Hilda's notebook as she leaves, skimming over her sister's short-hand.

When she sets it down, she turns to see Diana studying her with a frown.

"Zelda, what happened before-" but she can hear the trepidation in her voice and knows nothing that comes next will change anything at all.

Instead she strokes one hand through Diana's hair and watches as her eyes close in pleasure at the touch. As she pulls aways, she rolls two strands of loosed hair around her fingers, before depositing them in a small vial for later testing.

"There now," Zelda's surprised at how soft she sounds in her own ears, "All finished."

Diana blinks, but sits up with effort, the child already weighing on her. She swings her legs as though preparing to leave, but as she does she breaks out into the most dazzling smile, almost blinding in its intensity.

"She's kicking." Diana's voice is rough with awe.

"Here," and before she can react, Diana's hand is soft around hers, pulling her until her palm is flat against the thin wool of her dress and a soft thud taps against it with surprising force. She can't help it - she breaks into a grin from ear to ear. She can't remember the last time such pure elation swept through her, and it's not until she tastes a hint of salt on her lips that she realizes a few rogue tears have slipped their way down her cheeks.

She turns away instantly, dabbing her face clean hurriedly with a handkerchief, but it doesn't matter. Diana must have seen, because when she turns back to face her again, Diana's smile is achingly warm.

~

  
"I know how you hate her Zee but--"

"I don't." She holds her brother's gaze, willing him to understand something of this tumult she feels. "I don't hate her."

They've grown apart this past year, but her brother can still read her more easily than scripture and whatever he sees, gives him pause. She watches him swallow, his eyes flitting to search her face for some clue to more.

"I can't hate her."

Edwards nods, something he saw providing some satisfaction.

"I came to tell you," and she can feel the penny in the air like a bullet, "the Dark Lord has agreed to bless our union."

"He's what?"

Zelda's voice is sharp and fast. The ground seems to have dropped away and she scrambles for something to support her, the wall, the chair, her hands suddenly clammy and dull as she tries to hold on.

"We'll be married in a fortnight, under the blue moon."

The velvet upholstery fabric is soft under the tips of her fingers. She brushes it back and forth as she wills herself to calm down. It's only after a few deep breaths that she realizes something is wrong. Her brother should be ecstatic. He should be glowing with satisfaction, high priest triumphant, now to be married and with a daughter on the way.

"The Dark Lord has blessed the union of his High Priest and a mortal?" Her voice is shaking slightly and she can see it now, the shame he's hiding in his eyes.

"Zee-"

"What did you do?" She cuts him off, voice sharp, cutting as only a sibling could be.

"It's better for everyone."

"Is it?"

Edward says nothing in response.

"Our Dark Lord is no fool, Edward."

"Careful Zee, you're awfully close to blaspheming." Edward's voice is hard.

"Edward-"

"He only wants to ensure that our first born takes the path of night."

"Of course she'll take the path of night," Zelda scoffs. How preposterous. But the more she considers it, the more she realizes, that can't possibly the true bargain.

"What is this about Edward?"

He doesn't reply. There's something he's not telling her and that knowledge more than anything else eats at her.

"Does Diana know of whatever bargain you've made?"

His silence is as good as a reply.

They stand together, neither speaking, for an interminable time. She had always felt that she and Edward were two sides of the same coin. There were differences, but they paled in comparison to the contrast between either of the elder siblings and their youngest sister. She and Edward were all sharp edges, quick to anger in their youth, studious and ambitious and vengeful.

But as she watched him now she could see only where they differed: his dark hair and dour expression against her fiery mane and voice, his pensive mood swings that brought nothing but cold silences against her increasing impulsivity and unrest.

She breaks their silence with a sigh, leaning towards him, her head falling to his shoulder. The only times she had every felt at peace were in the arms of her brother and sister. She closes her eyes and inhales the woodsy sulfur of his particular magic.

"You're doing what's best?" It doesn't sound like a question, and as she says it, Zelda feels reassured by her own voice that it isn't. This is her high priest, her brother, her Edward.

"Always, Zee." His arms surround her, stroking down her back as he speaks, "We're Spellmans. We do what is right."

She nods into his chest and pulls back, sliding her hair back from her eyes with one finger. She moves to leave, but Edward's voice stops her just as she reaches the doorway.

"Would you-" Edward clears his throat, his voice hoarse, "would you be her night mother, Zee?" Zelda turns back, surprise knitted in her brow.

"Diana and I agreed, if anything were to happen to us..." Edward's voice trails off, but Zelda's can feel herself begin to nod without even realizing it, her face splitting in grin.

"I'd be honored." Her voice cracks.

She passes Diana on the stairs to her bedroom. She's not sure who moves first, but their eyes meet and their hands clasp, resting just above Diana's stomach, and for that moment, Zelda can feel herself cocooned in the supernatural warmth that radiates from her.

Zelda breaks away, her heart hammering and when she blinks, she can feel a single tear slip down her cheek.

~

Its a cold October night when they usher Diana into the clearing in the woods, Edward casting a sphere of insulation around them all. He must be nervous; it's almost oppressively strong. Zelda can feel herself sweating through her dress as she eases Diana into position.

Both sisters kneel between Diana's propped legs but it's Zelda who cradles Sabrina as she first enters the world. It's Zelda who brushes the blood from her scrunched face and soothes the tiny cries that seem to echo through the woods with a strength that could shake the trees.

She places Sabrina gently in Diana's outstretched arms, and when their eyes meet, Zelda feels more full of affection than she thought was possible, scorching her and radiating out until it kindles everything and everyone it touches.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what to tell you. Zelda literally has chemistry with everyone. 
> 
> (full disclosure, I had no idea how to end this...)
> 
> If you enjoyed or appreciated reading this, I'd really love it if you left a comment. <3


End file.
